The Last Bard
by Nanocowie
Summary: When Harry is at his lowest moment. He discovers that he is never truly alone. 4th Year, Hermione, Ron, Dumbles Bashing. Apathetic!Harry. Musician!Harry


Tears streamed down the young 4th year as he sprinted down the labyrinth that was the halls of Hogwarts. His normally vivid emerald green eyes distorted by the pooling tears, his simple black robes torn with blood streaming from a gash on his chest. The boy's name was Harry Potter, the now ostracized Gryffindor and self-proclaimed 'Stress ball of Fate'. Everything that he held dear had abandoned him, and it all started with his name being spewed from the Goblet of Fire

 _"Harry Potter!" The legend of British wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, proclaimed to the hall of confused students. Harry was in shock, his chances at a calm year broken in a matter of moments. The students of the hall looked at him with contempt and envy as his long-time friend Hermione roughly shoved him out of his seat and towards the chamber of champions._

 _As Harry entered the room Dumbledore grabbed him by the front of his robes and aimed his wand at Harry's heart. And that was when Harry realized that he was truly alone…_

Things had spiralled downwards from then, the judges and other champions had proclaimed that he was a disgrace and that he was a discredit to Hogwarts. Dumbledore refused to look at him and it got worse when he returned to Gryffindor tower. He was roughly shoved out of the tower with his trunk and the corpse of his only true friend, Hedwig. Ron and Hermione ridiculed him as he was shoved out and his robes cut of their Gryffindor crest, even Neville looked at him in contempt.

And that is how Harry found himself on the seventh floor corridor, in front of the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy locked in the eternal struggle of attempting to teach trolls how to dance the Swan Lake. Harry was pacing around, looking for a way to release his anger, sorrow and frustration when Hogwarts showed that he was not truly alone. A door formed in the wall next to the broken boy, and after slight consideration the boy thought.

"Well, what more do I have to lose?"

And the boy took his first step into the Room of Requirement. Bookcases lined each wall as the boy looked on in wonder at the grand spectacle of magic. On further inspection there appeared to be a chest and couch in the middle of the room. The couch had a wooden frame, the two person seat appeared to be made specifically for lying down, and the couch was cushioned with red velvet and a large pillow. The roof, the boy seemed to notice, had speakers pointing down towards the couch in the centre. Harry tentatively took forward towards the chest, he stood in front of it as he silently regarded it. It was old and wooden, It had a few rusty latches that held the lid closed but it dident seem to be harmful in any case.

Taking a deep breath Harry opened the latches and opened the lid to see a guitar and a book sitting there: covered in dust. Harry blew on the instrument, and coughed as the dust was kicked up into his mouth. He pulled the instrument and gasped as it started to glow, a sharp pain was felt on the hand holding the neck of the acoustic guitar as he felt the instrument siphon some of his blood. All of a sudden Harry felt his head begin to violently hurt as he felt a slight presence force its way into his mind, much like the sorting hat.

Tentatively Harry mentally called out, "Hello? Who are you and what are you doing to me?"

He didn't expect a response but lo and behold, Harry's voice was answered by a soft, melodic female voice. The pain suddenly stopped as soon as the being started to talk back to him. "Oh? It is unusual for someone of your age to speak to a mind-based being, but you are rather familiar with the unusual aren't you my dear?"

Harry blushed at the term of endearment the voice used. It was oddly soothing and helped his broken mental state. Sensing the boy's mental embarrassment the voice just giggled and spoke once more. "Well young man, I was known by many names. But most people now know me as Music."

Harry was just confused, was this guitar speaking to him? He tentatively asked. "Well, if you are Music embodied what do you need from me? I have never even tried an instrument."

Music just smiled to herself, this boy would be quite the charmer when he is trained up a bit. "Don't worry my young Apollo. All shall be revealed in that book alongside me. For now, though, remember this. You may be alone now, but music will always guide you towards the heavens: and you shall join the stars the day you truly become free." And with that, the presence inside Harry's mind faded into a trace of a melody.

Harry shook himself as he realized what had just happened, he had spoken to the embodiment of Music! Harry looked back down at the guitar to see that it had become dark again, the grains of the wood became red with his blood and the rest of the wood was a light grey.

Harry saw that there was a note held to the guitar, weaved into the strings. He took it out and read the contents. The note read,

"Harry, I expect that no one will want your presence in class or at meals so I have arranged for a wisp to deliver you food and water. I also expect you to drink the potions that come with the meals and to READ THE BOOK. Enjoy yourself Little Apollo.

-Your future In-Law, Music"

Harry was slightly startled by Music calling herself his In-Law but was ecstatic at the fact that he was able to stay in the room indefinitely. He silently regarded his current situation and decided on his next course of action. He was going to do as Music suggested and read the book in the chest. Bending down to pick up the leather bound book he read the title. The book read 'Bardicia Magika: The Forgotten Art'.

Now thoroughly interested in the contents Harry grabbed the book in his free hand and moved over to the couch and lay down with his new guitar next to him, it felt as if Harry would be separated from a part of himself without the guitar next to him. He was slightly scared at this feeling but promptly realized that the reason for this would probably be in the book.

Harry propped himself up against the pillow and felt as if he never wanted to leave. It felt like he was completely relaxed and ready to learn the secrets of the world. Grinning to himself Harry opened the book to begin his first true foray into recreational studying.

"The Bards were a race of magic users that used the flow of music to shape their magic. They were generally ostracized due to their power over emotion and superior control of the arcane…"

 _2 months later…_

Nobody had seen hide nor hair of Harry Potter ever since his exile from Gryffindor: and that suited the populace of the school just fine. Everybody had more or less forgotten about the young man as they mingled with the other schools. But today the schools were turned towards the arena of stone for the first event of the Tri-wizard tournament. Even some delegations from other countries schools came to watch this historical event. Salem Academy of the Arcane Arts and Mahoutokoro School of Magic.

Excitement was building as Harry moved down towards the champion's tent. He had his hood up and nobody noticed him for some odd reason, Harry just guessed that they knew when someone wanted to be alone. As he heard the announcement for the champions to enter the tent he walked inside. The judges were surprised that someone was there already but they didn't recognise him due to his hood.

Ludo Bagman stood up and addressed Harry. "Sir, I'm afraid that this area is reserved for Judges and Champions only. So if you could just…" He didn't get a chance to finish as Harry lowered his hood and enjoyed the gasps from the others. He looked much different, with blood red lines moving from his cheeks and forehead to his eyes. His hair was as unruly as usual but had gained a bit of length and his eyes had gone completely feline. Harry basked in their astonishment for a moment before bringing himself back to reality and scathingly remarking. "Well then, it would appear the disgrace is the most punctual, I wonder what that says about the other _honourable_ champions?"

This appeared to snap the judges out of their reverie and they remembered how they had treated him. They all appeared mildly chastised but nowhere near remorseful. Bagman spoke up in a shaky voice. "Yes, Yes, Mr Potter, now do take a seat as we wait for the other champions."

Harry snorted but took his seat and pulled out his now underused wand. He had been practicing so hard with Bardic magic and learning instruments provided by the Room of Requirement that his wand was a mere relic of his life now. He subtly whistled out a stream of notes that caused his robes to flatten and crisp up and for any impurities to be loosened. Harry sighed as he remembered where he had stored his guitar for the task. His first plan was to call to the soul fragment he left in the guitar. (AN, This is not a horcrux, as it is still connected to Harry's soul, just in another detachable part of him)

Failing that he would use Bardic magic to defeat any obstacle in his way, it would be easier to use his guitar but he could improvise. Bardic magic was much more fluid then the Merlinian casting system, relying more on the user's intent then incantations and movements of wands

Just then the other champions came into the tent. They appeared to be a shivering mess, even the unflappable Krum had a face of apprehension. Bagman stood up and addressed the champions, "Ah, it appears that you are all here. Now then, now is the time to reveal your first challenge." Bagman let the tension build for a moment before announcing. "You will have to retrieve a golden egg from the nest of a dragon!"

Harry stood there in mild shock, they expected any school student to face down a dragon without any specialised training. Taking a look at the other champions Harry saw that they had no shock whatsoever on their faces. Narrowing his eyes Harry slowly and angrily whispered "Meyvitaan…"

Suppressing his rage Harry listened as Bagman held out a squirming sack. It finally reached him and he roughly pulled out a small dragon construct. Black as night and covered in spikes, the little construct was quickly crushed in Harry's hand after a good look at the dragon and the number hung from its neck. It looked like he was going 4th.

Rather flustered at Harry's angry display Bagman quickly asked them to wait for their name to be called and hurried out of the tent. Harry just scoffed at the pitiful man and went over to one of the alcoves in the wall. He laid down and produced a small black flute, taking a moment he began to play softly. The other champions were too involved in themselves to bother with Harry while he started a Song of Valour to boost his courage for his oncoming task.

And one by one the other champions had their names called while Harry continued to play. He could hear the screams of the audience and roars of the dragons. And all of a sudden Harry heard his name called. Steeling himself he walked out of the tent, his flute tucked away and his wand in hand.

Harry walked out to the jeers of the audience, he blocked them out while he tucked his wand back into his robes to the outraged cries of the audience. He pulled out his flute and started to command his magic to call his guitar to him. The dragon looked at him curiously, and got into a defensive position. And as Harry ended his song his guitar materialised in front of him. Grabbing it he looked up at the dragon with a victorious look in his eyes. And with a deep breath he started playing a light melody, light gathering around his hand that were playing the frets.

The dragon heard the melody and slowly began to pacify, Harry took advantage of this and began to play harder. The crowd was silent as he began to start playing a harder tune, his hand began to glow a hard crimson and all of a sudden Harry strummed hard and a bolt of red lightning sparked from his left hand and struck the dragon. This shock was enough to send the dragon to unconsciousness, a feat that had taken wizards many years to replicate and even that required multiple wizards.

Harry calmly walked up to the golden egg after slinging his guitar over his shoulder on its straps. He grabbed it and moved towards the end line. Among the stares and whispers of the crowd.

 **AN, I have no excuse. Well my desktops dead so I'm not distracted by LoL. Btw anybody want a League of Legends fanfic? I kinda wana make a Jinx x Ezreal one. Anywho, I own nothing that appeared in this fic and Area 11 is fucking brilliant. Btw 10 reviews on this one and Ill probably finish Not Quite to Plan.**

 **C Ya!**


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